


Mirror, Mirror

by Lywinis



Series: One Shots -- Capsicoul [23]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU-a-palooza, Drabbles, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 08:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3282992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lywinis/pseuds/Lywinis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“If a coin comes down heads, that means that the possibility of its coming down tails has collapsed. Until that moment the two possibilities were equal.</p>
<p>But on another world, it does come down tails. And when that happens, the two worlds split apart.” </p>
<p>-- Phillip Pullman, <i>The Golden Compass</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not a Toy

**Author's Note:**

> Toy Story + Capsicoul as requested on tumblr

"We’re in position," Sam said, his plastic wings helping to wedge him in the corner for a perfect view of the living room. Steve sat next to the baby monitor, his chin on his molded plastic knuckles, listening to the hubbub of the party below.

"What have we got?" asked Bucky, the much loved (and repaired, complete with splinted and remolded silver plastic arm) GI Joe. His battered frame meant a lot of new toys were spooked by him, but in reality, he’d just been roughly handled and then handed down; his new owner had meticulously repaired him, giving him a lot of new hope for this household.

Steve waved a hand for quiet, the toys below the bed hushing as the party continued.

"Okay, present time!" his boy’s mother called. "Stan, you wanna open the big one first?"

"Shh, shh, here we go!" Tony said, the little robot at his feet whirring around his ankles in excitement.

"It’s…a poster," Sam called.

"Of what?" Someone wondered.

"Looks like a Captain America poster."

"Of course," someone said, gesturing at Steve, sitting on a Captain America bed spread in a Captain America themed room. Steve, the bottom of his boot marked with a clumsy "STAN" in childlike scrawl, signaled for quiet again.

"Next present is…a lunchbox!"

"Who invited that kid?"

"We have a secret Captain America moonbase playset!"

"Oh, great, who’s going to get to be cut open by Red Skull’s laser?" Tony asked, rolling his eyes.

Present after present was listed off with trepidation. Nothing to worry about, it seemed. Stan was getting a lot of clothes this year. And new bedsheets while he was at it.

"And that’s it," Sam called, getting ready to glide back to the bedroom before playtime could begin.

"See?" Steve asked the gathered toys. "Nothing to worry about."

"Wait, I think we have one more present!"

"Oh no, you guys, hold on!" Sam readjusted, looking through the potted plant’s leaves again. "Mom just dragged out another box!"

"What size is it?" Tony yelled, diving for the table and shaking it. "Details, Wilson!"

The baby monitor rattled in place and fell. Steve grunted, dropping to the floor alongside it. Tony had knocked the batteries out, and he struggled to get them back in while the toys panicked around him. Finally, he got them right side in, and turned the monitor back on with a burst of static.

"It’s a—"

Cheers erupted from below, turning everything into a whine of feedback as the pounding of footsteps sounded below.

"Places, hurry!" Steve snapped, climbing for his spot on the bed.

Everyone went still just as the door banged open to a flurry of child-like glee and activity. When the coast was clear, Steve raised his head.

And bumped it on the bedspring.

"Steve?" asked Bruce, creeping forward. "Why are you under the bed?"

Steve couldn’t answer that question, instead sliding out from beneath the bed and climbing the comforter.

He raised his eyes to the pillow, where, sitting in his spot—

"Who is  _that_?” asked Bucky, having shimmied up behind him.

"I don’t know," Steve said, looking at the slick uniformed toy with a futuristic looking laser gun. "But I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding."

He looked at the discarded box.

"What’s an Agent of SHIELD?" he wondered aloud. "This must be Phil…"

"That’s classified," came a crisp voice, and he startled. The other toy was blinking and looking at him with concern in painted blue-grey eyes. "Who are you, and where are your clearance badges?"


	2. Office Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boss/coworker Capsicoul, as requested on tumblr.

"…and as you can see," Phil said, his laser pointer directing their attention on the chart projected on the wall. "Our productivity is up sixty percent, and we expect close to one hundred fifty percent in profits by the end of the fourth quarter. It’s great news for SHIELD and the Avengers project."

Steve couldn’t help but be drawn to the lines of Phil’s back as he turned, moving and talking with his hands. It was casual Friday, and while that meant jeans and t-shirts for most of the Silicon Valley startup, the new CEO had just opted to take off his jacket and roll up his sleeves, his vest accentuating the long lines and solid look of his chest.

Tony jabbed Steve in the side with his pen. A note slid between them made him scowl.

_If you stare any harder at his ass, it’s gonna catch fire._

Steve crumpled the paper, shoving it in his laptop bag. Phil turned, seeming not to notice the minor disruption.

"Well, that’s all I have for this week, any questions?" he asked, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. Steve groaned internally. That just made Phil’s forearms flex, and Steve didn’t need any more distraction today.

They filed out, heading to their various cubicles. Steve lingered, gathering his things slowly. Phil was sorting through his notes, and he smiled at Steve as he zipped up his bag.

"Hey, great work on that new banner for the website," Phil said, loosening his tie and taking a swig from his water bottle. Steve swallowed and looked down, pinking. "You’re really doing a great job."

"Yeah, thanks," Steve said, a pleased smile curving the corners of his mouth. He took a deep breath. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, I have an open door policy." Phil started gathering up his materials. "What’s up?"

"I was wondering if maybe you’d be up for a cup of coffee later?" Steve asked, his hand sweating around the handle of his laptop bag.

Phil went very still.

"Oh…" he said, his eyes closing as if he hated the idea. "Steve, I’m sorry, but…"

"—no, no," Steve said, backpedaling as hard as he could. "It’s okay. I understand."

Phil rubbed his neck. “I just…I don’t usually date coworkers, especially employees I’m responsible for and—”

"Really, it’s okay," Steve said, feeling lower every second. "I’m just, gonna…go."

He slunk out of the meeting room, feeling like an asshole.

* * *

When he showed up for work the next morning, he slipped by Phil’s office without saying good morning. He had a feeling it would be a long time before he could look the guy in the eyes again.

He was lucky he hadn’t been fired.

When he got to his desk, the scent of hazelnut caught his nose, and he saw the cup and the donut settled next to it.

A note was taped to the cup.

 _You should have let me finish. I was going to say I’d make an exception, if you were really serious_.  _Dinner later? —P_

Steve poked his head over the wall of his cubicle, to find Phil watching him through his open door. Steve held up his coffee, nodded, and smiled. Phil returned it, warm and genuine, and Steve’s knees felt rubbery.

There was a whoop from the hallway, and Steve turned to see Sam and Bucky go racing away, Sam yelling something about winning the betting pool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another request!
> 
> Like I said previous chapter, feel free to request AUs that don't fit random lists, I'll be happy to consider them. (The toy story AU was a pleasant surprise, actually.)


	3. For a Few Dollars More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crime Partners AU as requested on tumblr.

Phil tossed his tools into his bag, the lock clattering to his feet.

"Come on," he said. "We’re in."

Steve grinned, hoisting the duffel over his shoulder and leading the way into the room where the safe was.

"You sure you’re up to cracking this one?" he asked, looking at the cameras pointed at the doors to the safe. "You’ve got about ten minutes before the guards notice the loops I put up."

Phil grinned and cocked a brow at him.

"If it takes me more than six, you can have my half."

* * *

“The world of international banking is abuzz today, as another daring robbery in broad daylight stunned the shareholders of Hammer Industries. Justin Hammer, the owner and CEO, has declined to comment on what was stolen and where, although separate sources have confirmed that the company’s main branch has been looted.”

The anchorwoman earned a salute from Phil, sitting down after grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the bar.

“Over six hundred million dollars in small stones were looted. Authorities believe that the gems were chosen because they were easy to carry, conceal, and then sell.”

“Also because it disguises exactly what we were doing,” Phil said, grinning into his glass. Steve chuckled from where he was sitting with a jeweler’s loupe, the gems spread out on a cloth in front of him. He picked up a sapphire the size of his thumb and examined it.

“I take it you sent off the package to Stark?” he asked. Phil nodded, pouring himself another glass of whiskey.

“Mhm, wired it about fifteen minutes ago. Stark will use the prototypes and will sell the trafficking information to the FBI.” Phil licked a drop of whiskey from his thumb, looking satisfied. “We’ll get a good payout on that.”

"What do you even do with all that money?" Steve asked idly.

"Save it for a rainy day." Steve winced internally. He’d had that coming. They didn’t usually pry. That was their agreement. They came together and did their jobs, then went home.

"Mnh," Steve said.

"…what about you?"

Now that, that caught him by surprise. He glanced at Phil and realized he was a little deeper into his cups than usual after a job. Flush with victory and from screwing Hammer over, Phil was on his fourth neat whiskey.

Steve’s lips curled a little into a smile.

"I don’t really know. It’s kinda just there."

"Really? Good lookin’ guy like you, figured you always spent it partying when we went our separate ways."

Steve shook his head, laughing. “Don’t need to, Stark puts me up for a while so I can test his new electronic locks. I have a regular nine-to-five.”

"No shit?" Phil said, laughing. He shook his head. "No shit."

Steve smiled, watching the flush on Phil’s face.

"You know, it’s not so bad," he said. "Bein’ straight, I mean."

"Nah, I don’t have it in me to hold down a job like that. I’d cram Stark into a safe by the end of the week."

Steve hummed, concentrating on their take. This was their bonus, as Stark didn’t need the money and they’d done all the work for the files as it was. The robbery was a ruse, to draw police attention from what had really been stolen – the copied files that Phil had just transmitted to Stark Industries.

“So, what’s the word, bird?” Phil asked, stretching out on his bed and putting his feet up. “Can we fence these?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “We just need a little time. I know a guy, but we’re gonna have to lay low for a couple of months.”

Phil grinned. “I heard Belize is nice this time of year.”

“Tahiti?” Steve suggested.

Phil made a face like he’d eaten something sour. “Nah, not Tahiti. Trust me. Worst massage I ever got was in Tahiti. Felt like they were trying to take my head off.”

Steve smiled. Their deal was simple. They stuck together until they got paid. So Belize it was.

Maybe he’d get to see Phil surfing in those board shorts again.

He stowed the thought away, packing away the stones into the neat little false bottoms of their suitcases. Half in each, that way even if they split off, they’d never be fucked over by the other. Steve glanced at Phil, who was watching him idly.

“What?”

“You’re too honest, for a thief,” Phil commented. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it.

“Well, yeah, tech’s my gig. You’re the safecracker.”

“I mean—“ Phil waved a hand, then dropped it, looking for the words. “You’re too open. We’re not best friends or anything.”

And yet Steve knew what he took on his sandwiches.

“Yeah, we’re not, I guess,” Steve said, thinking back on the bottle of cider Phil had retrieved from that wrecked yacht as a joke for him. He’d found it in his hotel room.

“Yet you’d give me my half without question,” Phil said.

“I’d rather not poison a good relationship,” Steve said.

“Mm,” Phil said. Steve felt the prickle of him watching him, and he shrugged.

“You’ve not given me a reason to fuck me over,” Steve said. “Why ruin that?”

Phil conceded the point with a nod, finishing his drink and setting the glass aside.

“Just wondering.”

* * *

Phil grinned as the old safe door swung open.

“Nothin’ like these old ones,” he said.

Steve shook his head. “No electronics, they don’t do anything for me.”

“That’s why you gotta get manual, get your hands dirty.”

“Freeze!”

“Not like that,” Phil said, sighing as he tossed the flash bang. Sparks erupted as the security guards fired blindly, the bullets ricocheting away. He grabbed the velvet bags, a half-dozen in all, and shoved them in his bag before sprinting after Steve.

They slipped out via the construction on the third floor, shimmying down the unused elevator shaft, their climbing gear well-suited for the job. They made it to the basement, to the waiting utility truck, and zipped away, laughing as the blocks sped past, things getting smaller in the distance.

They parked in an alley, slipping back into street clothes, flush with victory and another small fortune in gems. Sirens passed them and they froze, the noise ululating around them before fading. Both of them let out a breath, then Phil turned, caught the look Steve was giving him, and then lunged at him, kissing him hard.

Steve made a noise of surprise, then pulled Phil closer, his hands going for the other man’s shirt. Phil was quicker, and Steve’s pants were open, warm calloused fingers stroking him into panting groans before he realized what was happening.

“Think I already know the combination,” Phil said, speaking the words against Steve’s mouth as he worked him over. “Holy shit, you’re a big boy.”

“I eat my veggies,” Steve said, a little dazed as the safecracker revved his motor like a professional. Steve rutted, his voice hoarse. He was a shivering mess, but not moreso than when Phil dropped to his knees, his mouth wicked and talented as his fingers.

“Jesus,” Steve groaned, not about to last long at all, Phil clearly not expecting him to. He came hard, his knees shaking, his hand in Phil’s hair, Phil’s eyes closed as he hummed through it.

Phil sat back when he was done, grinning up at Steve, who felt boneless and deflated.

“Holy shit,” Steve breathed.

Phil started to laugh. “Still up for Belize?”

“Damn right I am,” Steve said.

“Good. I’ll book a king this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for now!
> 
> Feel free to request more and other prompts on tumblr! lywinis.tumblr.com/ask


	4. My Brother's Keeper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was supposed to chaperone you but I apparently am your kryptonite; I would like to be sorry but I really am not AU, as requested on tumblr, part of a set of clubbing au prompts.

“Hey, wanna dance?” the girl asked, her blonde hair falling in her face. She was rife with exuberance, panting from the mass of flailing bodies on the dance floor. PJ grinned at her, his torn shirt exposing his arms, and the fresh ink that had just healed. His older brother wasn’t here tonight, and that made all the difference as he charmed his way into a drink he couldn’t technically have yet.

PJ looked her up and down, setting his empty glass aside. The beer hadn’t been terrible, but it was bitter and unfamiliar and he decided that one was enough. He was feeling floaty as he tugged her to the dance floor, the thump of the bass making his chest ache.

This was fun.

She started grinding, rubbing back against him, and like most teenaged boys, he was incredibly interested in the idea. His hands went to her hips and he didn’t move much, letting her do her thing, his eyes closing as the sensation crawled across him. It was really good, his hips working, and PJ grinned at her when the song ended.

She leaned into his ear, her teeth marking the lobe.

“Get us something to drink, and I’ll meet you at my table?” she asked, pointing to a booth in the dark.

Much, much more interested now, PJ wandered over, the bar packed.

“Two Coronas,” he called, holding up fingers to the bartender. He was feeling good, mostly his pants, but everything ended when someone clamped a hand on the back of his neck.

“Ow, ow, hey—“

“No beer for him, please,” came the voice, deep and sonorous, and PJ recognized his brother’s friend Steve. His hot friend Steve.

“Man, why you gotta bust balls,” PJ complained, struggling against Steve’s hand.

“Because you’re a little asshole for coming here alone when your brother told you not to,” Steve said, and PJ wondered if he was going to shake him like their dog did with his rope toy. Steve looked like he wanted to. “Do you have any idea why?”

“Because he’s a funhater,” PJ said.

“Because he doesn’t want you picked up by a fucking creep, that’s why,” Steve growled in his ear, making him shiver. “We’re taking you home.”

“We?” PJ echoed.

“Me and Sharon.” He nodded to the girl, and PJ recognized her. Sharon sighed when she saw him.

“Why am I not shocked that John’s little brother is here?” she asked, looking resigned.

PJ tried not to scowl. Sharon was Steve’s off again, on again girlfriend. She clearly wasn’t interested in spending time with a freshman, so he’d fuck off and do what he wanted.

Problem was, Steve still had hold of him.

“Lemme go,” he hissed.

“Go home, PJ,” Steve intoned.

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“You’re right, I’m not.” Steve released him. “But now everyone thinks I am.”

PJ turned, and saw a lot of the people in the club were subtly checking out the scene Steve had just made.

“God, Steve, let him go so we can dance,” Sharon said, rolling her eyes.

“All right, fine.” Steve fixed him with an unreadable look.

PJ scowled at him, and went back to his dancing partner’s table empty handed.

“No drinks?” she asked in a tone that suggested she’d seen the whole thing.

“Nah,” he said, smoothing his shirt. “Bar was packed.”

“Right,” she said. “I’m gonna go dance with someone who can get me beer.”

PJ sighed, watching her move off. His head thumped onto the table, and when he looked up, Steve was watching him.

And smiling.

“Christ, what an asshole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard being a teenager.
> 
> Meet PJ, my version of teen!Phil. He is exactly as much trouble as you think he is.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a gathering place, an envelope where I'll slot all the requests I've written that don't really have a spot in my longer works. (Sometimes I pick those apart at the seams and hem them into longer fiction like Aerouant or Douleur.) Anyway, I spent all yesterday doing requests, so here they are!
> 
> Hope you enjoy, Constant Readers.
> 
> (This also makes it easier to find rather than relying on tumblr's inconsistent tag searches.)
> 
> \--Like a work? Wish it was longer? You can come to my inbox and request longer works: lywinis.tumblr.com/ask*--
> 
> * I reserve the right to accept or decline prompts, and work on a staggered schedule.


End file.
